


you're my cup of tea

by mendystar1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Fluff, Gen, coffeeshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendystar1/pseuds/mendystar1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting shot, John returned to London with an army pension and a trembling hand. After a few days of job searching, John was hired at a coffee shop that had business hours 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and it is constantly busy. Every day a man with dark curls, blue scarf and a flowing coat would come in, order a coffee and place it on his running tab without saying a word. The owner had explained to John when he got hired that a regular ordered a coffee, 2 sugars and John should get that order right and fast because the man came in about 6-12 times a day. John didn’t believe him at first but after a 3 days of creating about 6-14 coffee cups for the regular customer, John had enough. He decides to take the man’s health into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it begins with a cup of coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been about a year in the making. Quite long. I had no idea how to end it. 
> 
> Update: I will post new chapters of my other fics soon. I just got exams, and final assignments so if you're waiting for those, just read something else and mine will appear sooner or later. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your love.
> 
> Update 2: Wow. I never expected this fic to get so many kudos. Thank you so much. My exams will be done in about 2 weeks and once it is, I'm going finish my Part 2 of this fic, just to thank all of you wonderful people.
> 
> Much love. <3

It was John's first week working at the coffee shop. After getting shot, John had returned to London with his small army pension, trembling hands, and a psychosomatic limp. After a few days of job searching, John bumped into Mike Stamford who owned a 24 hours a day, 7 days a week coffee shop that was constantly busy and was looking to hire a new bus boy. Hearing that John needed a job, Mike hired him without even asking for his resume. He just asked him if he was a quick learner. He was. And if he would be able to fix the coffee machine if he ever broke it on the job. He said yes. If he could rearrange the inners of the human body, he could figure out how the gears and components of the machine work. On his first day Mike had told him about a man with dark curls, blue scarf and a flowing coat that would come in, order a coffee and place it on his running tab without saying a word. Mike had explained to John that the regular ordered a coffee, 2 sugars and John should be ready to do this order several times a day. John, being curious, asked why the regular was so special.

“Ah.” Mike grinned before giving a small frown. “That man, bloody brilliant, but an arse. I had so many workers quit because of him. I went through about 12 when I finally got him to agree to no longer speak in my shop.”

“Why isn’t he allowed speak?” John asked, curious at the unusual request. “If he’s so troublesome, just kick him out and never serve him again.”

Mike gave John a look of shock. “Oh no. That man brings a lot of business. This shop is swimming in the cash he’s giving me, I’m not giving that up.” Mike paused. “Just don’t provoke him would you? My.. my business wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Mike turned to John. “Promise me John. Please. Don’t make him do something stupid.”

“I’m not going to - Fine.” John agreed after seeing how distraught his boss was getting.

On John's first day the regular didn't show up.

On the second day of work, John had been wiping the tables with his cane safely tucked on the edge, when he felt a man hovering behind him.

"Ahem."

John turned around and saw a mess of dark curls, eyes that seemed to change from blue to grey and a blue scarf.

"Oh! You must be the regular." John said, recognizing the man from Mike’s description and brought a hand out for the man to shake, "I'm John and.. I don't think Mike told me your name." John asked before seeing the man's expression went from irritated to being annoyed. John mirrored the frown. “Alright. Jeez. Here's your coffee." John said, shoving the coffee in the direction of the regular. The man took the cup and left without another word.

It went on like that for a couple of days. The man would come by the shop around 4-5 times a day. Sometimes getting one cup of coffee and sometimes ordering 6. On those days John hoped that the man was ordering for some friends, but based on the regular's attitude, John found that most unlikely.

It’s not as if John was majority concerned over the man’s health, it’s just the doctor side of him. He can’t help it if he seeks to make every one of his customers healthy. So the next time the regular came in, John quickly worked and handed the regular his order. The man nodded, and exited the coffee shop without a word. After a few minutes, he walked back in and shoved the cup in John's face, shaking it before slamming the cup onto the counter, its contents spilling onto the counter, and proclaimed, "This is tea!"

"That's right," answered John, keeping his head down, trying to keep his smile off his face as he wiped the counters.

"I won't pay for it."

"That's fine, I paid for it." When John looked up, he saw a hint of shock in the man's face, but as soon as it came his usual irritation expression had returned.

"I want my coffee."

"No." John smiled as the man seemed to pulse with impatience.

"What kind of establishment is this? I demand to speak to your manager, Stamford or whatever his name is!”

"Mike? He stepped out for a bit. You could talk to me though."

"I rather not."

"Why not? I'm fun to talk to," John teased. "And this is the first time I heard you speak more than 3 words."

"I rather not waste words on idiots."

"That's rude.” John said with a fake pout. “I’ll have you know that I was a doctor."

"I do. And you’re a soldier at that."

“Wait, what?"

"During your first week, you stood up straighter whenever someone entered the store, as if an enemy will attack. You still do this now, but less. I assume this is because you're still not used to civilian life yet."

"Wow… that’s quite amazing.” John exclaimed. The regular’s eyes widened a bit in shock.

"Really?"

"Yeah.” John nodded. “We don't get that many people with party tricks around here."

The regular frowned.

"That wasn't a party trick. That was an observation. A deduction.”

"Right. Sure.”

“You don’t believe me? I can prove it.”

“Sure. Go right ahead.”

“Fine. You’re a military man. Obvious from your mannerisms and from the tan you’re sporting. Your tan only extends past your wrists and from neck up. The locations of your tan suggest military not leisurely spending time in the tropics. Due to the current state of the world right now, the highest probable locations would be Afghanistan or Iraq. You were discharged, easy. You look out of place and people joining the military rarely want to leave unless it’s due to family matters or those ghastly shows of affection to their significant others. For you it’s none of those things, you were shot. Judging from the way you move, it’s your shoulder. Right? No, left. You have a limp and you use a cane when you travel long distances between tables. You also have a job at this establishment when you’re trained as a doctor. A surgeon. How did I come to know about that? You spoke about it once in passing to a customer who was also a doctor. You were trying to create a connection with her though you didn't get that date yet. Son surgeon. A job like that is easy to get especially with your experience. So why here? Ah. The limp is psychosomatic, coupled with the intermittent tremor in your hands. You’ll need steady hands for the job so you had to get a job here. Highly unusual, but you’re a man that recently came back from constant battles. You have no need for sleep and so, a 24/7 coffee shop was the perfect choice for you. And you live close by. Convenient. You also knew the manager. Mike? You were friends in university and he introduced you to the job. You and him talk with familiarity. You also share inside jokes and phrases that refer back to the past."

“I- I”

“So. Did I leave anything out?”

“No, but you did get something wrong.”

“Ah. There’s always something. Well. Out with it. What is it?”

“Mike. I never knew him in uni. I was just lucky to pass by his shop when I first came back.”

“Hm. Interesting. I had deduced that you are not the type that would have close connections with people so quickly, but you have grown somewhat of a fondness to him.”

“To Mike? Well, yeah. He hired me when I had no idea how to even make coffee. He’s a nice guy.”

"And to the reason why do you both make references in knowing each other?"

"Ah. Mike also studied to be a doctor at Bart's. He dropped out before I transferred there so we sometimes joke about how if he hadn’t dropped out, we would have been best mates until I headed off to the army."

“Interesting…”

 

* * *

 

 

It had been three weeks since Sherlock had shown off his whole ‘deduction’ technique, and he came in everyday even though he knew John would serve him tea instead of coffee. When Sherlock didn’t say a word when John had given him the cup the first day he came after their bonding session, John knew that Sherlock had liked the tea. Or at least was slowly tolerating it at the moment.

Mike had came in one week, and grinned the entire time when he saw Sherlock and John talking to one another across the counter as Sherlock talked about his latest murder mystery. John shot his boss a questioning look, but Mike just waved him off, mouthed ‘have fun’ and helped the next customer in line.

“Hey Sherlock.” John frowned at the tightly wrapped box that held the ‘Blooming Tea’ inside. Business was slowing down for the detective and he had been complaining loudly that he was bored. He yelled about it so much that most of the customers, even the ones that were used to the man’s theatrics, left the shop. John had suggested a taste experiment involving different types of tea, just to get the man to shut up. Sherlock just groaned, and left the shop. It wasn’t even two minutes later that he came back with three grocery bags filled with a whole lot of tea. He dropped the bags onto the counter, announced that John should make the tea since he had nothing to do anyway, and he would gladly pay the labor costs. So that’s what John had been doing for the ten minutes until he spoke.

“Yes John?” Sherlock replied as he quickly scribbled down some data he collected on the tea he was currently sipping onto a crumpled napkin.

“You know that Mike warned me to never let you open your mouth?”

“I assume it’s due to the many employees that quit after my choice to continue to partake in Stamford’s establishment.”

“i never did ask you. What the heck did you do?” John asked. He took the half-filled cup, and placed it next to the sink with the other half-filled cups of various teas. Sherlock felt that the time needed to urinate would waste precious time and so John was tasked to pour out the remaining tea down the drain. What a waste of tea.

“I deduced them. Daily. And their customers.”

John looked up at him with a grin lighting up his face.

“You didn’t.”

Sherlock gave a small smile in return.

“I did. There was the time I deduced the affair happening between the employee and the customer. They were exchanging their meeting place for when the husband was away. It was idiotic that they would choose to discuss that in public, so i had to reveal it. It was too horrid not to.”

“Someone actually did that?” John asked, horrified.

“What goes on in their idiotic brains, I will never know.”

John laughed. After working at the coffeeshop for a while, John noticed that people tended to forget that they’re in a public space when they start speaking about private matters. He heard stories about people discussing 50 Shades of Something, a married man meeting with his secret lover, and two ladies talking about having sex with their gardener when the husband wasn’t home. People are idiots.

“Is that why you don’t deduce me anymore?” John asked, pouring out the next tea into another cup. “You’re scared I might just quit?”

“I’m not scared of anything. I tolerate your presence, and you make good coffee. Even when you don’t serve it to me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome John.”

 

* * *

 

When the door swung open, and the chime attached to the door announced a new customer had just entered. John looked up and grinned when he saw Sherlock Holmes walking towards him. Before John made the move to grab the cup of coffee (the man deserved it and the detective he was constantly working with came by earlier to beg John to please, won’t you please just give him the damn caffeine already? He’s driving me insane!) when Sherlock spoke words that John thought he had dreamed.

John stared at the detective in shock.

“John? Are you alright? Did you not hear me?”

John shook his head.

“No. I heard you. You’re… You’re ordering tea?!”

"Yes. Do keep up John. I thought you're an employee here, not some mindless drone who just parrots whatever is said to them."

"I'm sorry, but did the great Sherlock Holmes just ordered something that wasn't caffeine? Am I dreaming? Are there no murderers on the loose that you had to go this far into boredom?"

"I can tell from your tone and your choice in wording that you’re mocking me. I merely see no point in ordering caffeine if you are not going to produce any. Even when I _needed_ it."

"Caffeine at your insane doses could kill you. And you never need coffee. What you need is food, oxygen and sleep."

“Food slows down the brain, and sleep is waste of hours that could be spent tracking killers. Murderers, John!”

“Which is why I was going to make you your coffee.” John gestured to the cup of coffee sitting on the counter.

“Yes. I saw. Although I appreciate the thought, even if it was Detective Lestrade who put you up to the task, I have begun to be quite fond of your tea.”

“My tea?”

“Yes. I tried making it myself. It’s not the same. I've asked Mrs. Hudson, but she doesn’t get it right either. Detective Lestrade has no idea how to make tea. My brother’s PA makes it taste like politics. It’s strange how the same ingredients and the facilities that are used to make it, still cannot make the same blend of tea that you’ve made for me.”

"It's because they're all missing one important ingredient."

"And what's that?"

"Milk."

Sherlock gave him an unimpressed look. John laughed.

"You look like you don't believe me."

"That's due to the fact that I have never seen you pour milk in any one of the cups you've made me."

"You've only seen me make tea that one time you had that experiment of yours!"

"And what of it?"

"I didn't put anything extra in those in case it contaminated the experiment."

John could almost physically feel Sherlock’s laser focus pointed straight at him. Could feel it burning hotter and hotter through his skull as Sherlock continued to stare.

“I never told you to do that.”

“I’m a doctor. I know how experiments go. Even without being told.”

“John.”

“What?”

“How would you like to be my partner?” Sherlock announced, taking a step forward towards the counter barrier. HIs eyes seemed to light up from delight.

John stared at the detective in shock. Sherlock rolled his eyes, deducing what John had been thinking.

“I did not mean a romantic relationship if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Oh no!” John cut in. “That’s not it. Whatever you think you saw.”

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“I’m saying that you’re wrong in whatever you think I was thinking about when I froze.”

“And how am I wrong?”

“I’m not shocked by your ..uh.. romantic advances. I’m more as to shocked as it happening too fast?” john cringed at his questioning tone.

“Ah.” Sherlock said. “Your mind leap to wedlock.”

“Yes.”

John could feel his face turning a little red as Sherlock continued to stare at the former soldier, quickly deducing the emotions written across his skin.

“Would you like to?”

“Excuse me?’

“Don’t make me repeat myself John.”

“I don’t know what the question is even talking about!”

“Would you like to get married?”

“With you?”

“With me.”

“...We don’t even know each other.”

“But I do.”

John rolled his eyes at Sherlock’s bragging tone.

“Well, I don’t know you.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Why don’t we date.”

“Date?”

“You know. Two people. Getting dinner. Going out. Watching movies. That kind of thing?”

“Boring.” Sherlock dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. John looked down and absently scrubbed the counter with one of the rags, trying not to look disappointed. “How about a crime scene.” Sherlock suggested.

John looked up to stare at the man’s face.

“A crime scene.” John repeated.

“John.”

“Yes. Yes. I know. The repeating. You hate it. But you want to take me on a crime scene. For our first date. A crime scene.”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“John. If you are to get to know me better, this is the first lesson. I do not joke or aim to be ‘sarcastic.’ When I say let’s go to a crime scene, I do truly mean going to a crime scene.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Now whose repeating?” John teased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that tea has caffeine in it. (Thank you Sassy) Oh god. Sometimes I feel like an idiot. (And yes, I never knew. I'm so sheltered, how did I let this happen?!) John fed Sherlock tea instead of coffee, even though tea still has caffeine in it. Yup.  
> \------  
> "John."
> 
> "Yes Sherlock?"
> 
> "You do know that tea contains caffeine in it."
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "And yet you refuse to serve me coffee?"
> 
> "Well. Your daily dosage of 12 cups of coffee versus 2 cups of tea because of your stubborn-ness. I'll go with the tea."


	2. it began with a cup of tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after the coffeeshop.

"Back then, when you first asked me out..." John began, looking over at the man he has been living with for almost two months now.

A lot has happened since John had first met Sherlock Holmes, the annoying customer that demanded more and more caffeine while causing small riots with the other customers in the shop. John agreed to go on that date with Sherlock, who actually did take him to a crime scene for their first date. The Detective Inspector who came to the coffee shop once to beg John to serve the consulting detective coffee now looked at John with a questioning brow as Sherlock ran into the building that held the dead body like a boy running down the stairs on Christmas Day to find the presents Santa left him underneath the tree.

"I guess you ended up stuck with him too." The inspector said, filling up the silence as they both watched Sherlock disappear through the door.

Yup.

“I guess I am.”

So John had an exhilarating first date. Possibly the best one he has ever had. Ever. It involved kidnappers, crawling out of windows, jumping off fire escapes, running after criminals and waiting for the police to arrive to do the arrest.

It was quite a night.

A night that promised more.

It was at the end of their date that Sherlock had asked him to move in with him. Sherlock needed a flatmate, and John had been searching for a place outside of the military boarding house. Or so Sherlock had reasoned, telling John that he had deduced John's want for a new space.

Sherlock, the dramatic man that he is, continued the list of reasons of why John should move in for three days straight. John gave in when Sherlock’s reasons began to involve the weirdest bribes like a constant supply of milk and keeping body parts and food separate in the freezer. A weird reason, but a good deal nonetheless in John's mind. Even if the detective never did it even once since John moved in.

When John had finally agreed, if only to shut that brilliant man up about how logical the choice would be, and to see the detective’s face slowly light up in hidden and uncontainable joy.

And then John got kidnapped by Mycroft, which Sherlock had suspected to happen and had somewhat prepped the army doctor on what would happen. Not that it really helped when the actual kidnapping happened. John might have broken an umbrella...

"Yes. John? What of it?" Sherlock's baritone voice cutting through John's reminiscing of the past. John paused, gathering his thoughts and tried to remember what he had asked just moments before. Sherlock watched as his doctor tried to regain his train of thought.

"Were you serious about the marriage thing?" John asked when he finally got his thoughts sorted.

"Of course."

"But you had no idea if we would have even been compatible living together, no matter what you deduce. And I didn't think you would be one to follow traditional ways, especially the idea of marriage. Especially one that involves paperwork."

"Paperwork is _Mycroft's_ area, but I do understand the need for ‘marriage.’ From what I have gathered there are different types of marriages. One where two people live with one another. Another where people live in separate homes under the guise of having another lover. Another where people marry to retain status in terms of law, social status and other things that I have no use and has long been deleted from my memory."

"That all sounds bad, so why would you even suggest the idea of getting married?"

"So you would stay."

"I- what?"

"I knew from the moment I gazed upon you that you were a faithful man, and a man that was greatly loyal. If you agreed to marry me, in the eyes of the idiotic concept of marriage agreed by politicians that have no idea how the world actually works and in your eyes, you would become mine and solely mine. And like the vows that are often spoken in those ghastly ceremonies, you would be mine until the very last breaths we take."

John stared at Sherlock in shock. Sherlock continued, as if he was urged on by what he saw in John.

"Perhaps I've become selfish and this was all a ploy for you to become chained forever to me. Perhaps I've experienced the emotion that jealous lovers get before they killed their victims in a crime done in what they call passion."

"Or." John cut in, breaking the tension in the room. "You loved my tea so much, you wanted to marry it."

Sherlock gave a small smile. "...Perhaps."

"If there is one thing I know, Sherlock Holmes does not do 'perhaps.' He only knows the truth and the facts laid out before him." John teased. "You fell in love with my coffee."

"I tolerated the coffee for the caffeine."

"You love the coffee." John countered with a grin. "And then you tasted my cup of tea, and in return for that great tea you showed me the wonders of your world. You allowed me for those few hours on our first date to explore the city through your eyes. It's due to that cup of tea that you fell in love with me."

"Brilliant deductions John, but you're wrong."

"What am I wrong about?"

"I didn't, as you say, 'fell in love with you' due to your makings of tea however great you think it is. I fell in love with you the first time I deduced you. At first glance you seemed so ordinary, so utterly boring like all the idiotic people that encompass this city. But you surprised me."

"And Sherlock Holmes rarely gets surprised." John teased.

"You somehow managed to dodge every deduction I made of you. With each and every fact I uncovered, I discovered something much better than the last."

“Now I just feel like you're filling me up with compliments because you left some bloody toenail in the fridge again.”

“... That is entirely untrue.”

John raised an eyebrow. “So what was that pause?”

“That was due to disbelief.”

“That I think you would say all of this so I'll get less cross with you when I would find some corpse limb in the fridge again?”

“That you believe in the very notion that I would say false words just to bring you to higher spirits. I would never do that to you John.”

“You do it to marks all the time.”

“Yes. Marks. That's what they're for. They are idiotic people that can easily be swayed by words and a pretty face, but you. You are my conductor of light. The only one that can guide me out from the shadows. You are unlike anyone I have ever known or deduced. You are one in a kind, John. And I am fond of the fact that I am the one who has you in his arms every night for the rest of my days.”

“...Yes.” John voice broke, his eyes getting misty as his emotions began getting the best of him.

“Yes… To what John?”

“Yes.” John repeated, taking a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “To the question.”

“...Question?”

John laughed, seeing the confusion on Sherlock’s face.

“To marry you, you idiot.”

“Oh.” Sherlock replied, and for the first time in a long time, his thoughts were no longer coherent.

“Yeah.” John replied, pausing when he saw Sherlock’s uneasy expression. “… Unless.. you didn’t want to - anymore I mean -”

“No!” Sherlock blurted out. “I mean yes. I mean I- I don’t know what to say.” Sherlock said, reviewing again in his head what just happened and how it turned into this situation.

“Say you’re happy.”

“...I- I didn’t think you would actually agree.”

“You didn’t expect that I would say yes after that speech you just said that made me out to be this perfect being? Of course I’ll marry you Sherlock. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

They paused, looking at each other. Sherlock wanted to catalogue this moment, record it in his mind’s eye and store it away in a vault where no one could access it. He wanted to polish it like a jewel that would glisten and sparkle as it refract light on the walls that held information of John. He wanted to keep it forever, fossilized and forever engraved into the memory of man, civilization and London itself. Sherlock recorded as the last of the sun rays, slipping through the window curtains, danced as it touched strands of John’s hair turning it gold. He watched as that small smile that John had reserved only for him took up the doctor’s features and that happy glint was reflected in John’s blue eyes. He watched, recorded and etched it onto every wall of his memory palace to remember.

This is the day he has John Watson.

This is the day that John Watson became his.

“So we’re doing this then?” John broke the silence, smiling as he did. “Getting married I mean.”

“Yes. If you’ll take me.”

“Good.” John replied. After a pause, the doctor got up from his seat. “I could use a cuppa. Tea?”

“Of course.” Sherlock answered, getting up from his seat to follow his newly engaged to the kitchen. “You do realize that once people hear the story of how we got engaged, they would find it really strange that we drank tea after the proposal.”

John chuckled as he set up the pot on the stove. Sherlock just watched patiently from the counter as John grabbed the tea bags from the cabinets.

“Screw being normal.” John said, a grin on his face. “Normal is boring anyway.”

“Indeed.”

“And besides, they all know you’re just in it for my tea anyway.”

“Not this again.”

“Don’t worry Sherlock. I know I’m your cup of tea.” John said with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To vertige who wanted a second chapter. I hope you liked it.
> 
> EDIT: sTOP GRACE AND CARO


End file.
